SUP

Sunday morning was the second night of our kids hosting a sleepover with their BFFs. I consulted the tidal chart for our area and determined that since the low tide wasn't until about 2, that I should be ok to go out and back and still have just barely enough water to float my stand up paddleboard (SUP) into the shoreline when I was ready to return. 

The section of Tampa Bay where we live is not actually Tampa Bay at all. It's called Old Hillsborough Bay. (No, there is no "New Tampa Bay". Although there is a town called "New Tampa".  And furthermore we have a "Port of Tampa" and a "Port Tampa" that are about 10 miles away from one another and both are working ports in the "City of Tampa".)

Anyway...the section of water where we live is not along the Bayshore sidewalk/sea wall proper.  We live on the stretch where the rip wrap is just concrete construction debris and mangroves. So, I heaved my board onto my head, crossed the street, carefully shimmied down the slanted cement surface of the rainwater retention pond drainage outflow, and plunked my board into the water. Ready!

The water was dead flat and extremely tannic from the recent rains coupled with higher than normal tides that steeped the fallen leaves and sea weed to create a salty giant cup of tea. My plan was to bee line to the Yatch Club and then meander in the shallows on the way back, looking though the water hoping to see lots of interesting critters.  

After I saw about five stingrays in about a minute, I thought it would be a good idea to count the number of stingrays who crossed my path. In order to be "fair" I chose to only tally the rays who I actually rode over and not the ones just within my line of sight. (They appear and disappear so quickly that I didn't even bother trying to take a photo.)  By the time that I got to the Yatch Club, I had 53 stingray flybys! 

(Nearing the Tampa Yatch Club.) I wouldn't normally take such a boring photo - taking pictures while standing up on a paddle board isn't easy!  But at this point Shawn texted me and wanted to know where I was. Snapping a picture is easier than typing...so...  Here I am.

Once I got to my planned destination, I poked around in the area between the marina and the Ballast Point Pier, where it is very rocky and shallow. Many times, while standing on the dock, I've seen dolphins in this little spot. So, I decided to check it out.  But, no. No, dolphins. (At least not here.)

After I paddled around on the northern side of the marina, I eased on up to the breakwater, that is some sort of roosting area for quite a variety of birds: seagulls, pigeons, skimmers, pelicans, egrets, and herons.  Trying not to scare them away, I took this time to sit down on my board and text Shawn back. 

It was at this point that we started discussing the possibility of going to visit my high school BFF, who I hadn't seen since December of 2000!  The plans were super iffy, so I just kept on at my slow pace.  (Some of the other texts in the screen shot were way later in the day.)

Feet hanging off the edges and acting like anchors in the very shallow water, I saw a huge disturbance about 20 yards away and then several dorsal fins.  DOLPHINS!  I hung around to watch that show for about ten minutes. When they moved on to shallower water by the beachy area, I stood up to and followed them, careful not to disturb their feeding frenzy.  I was a little scared a few times, thinking I might get toppled by their antics. Another time they swam over to a boat that was anchored off shore, fishing. I was dumbfounded by the fisher men's lack of interest and distracted by my own rubbernecking, causing me to almost wipe out!  Once I recovered, I began to notice that the skies were getting gray and the shallow waters were really getting choppy!  I figured that it was extra  wavy because of the out going tide and only inches deep rocky bottom of the bay. So after snapping this picture from the ruins of a long abandoned private dock, I headed out deeper, hoping to find calmer seas.

After about 45 minutes of battling swells and struggling to keep my south bound course (the waves kept hitting me on my beam side), I finally gave in and just sat on my board. I shortened my paddle from stand up size to about four feet, and just channeled my inner Polynesian ...pretending I was in a dugout canoe, racing to not be a snack for the megaladon who was in hot pursuit. 

Eventually, the winds died down and I could just continue my peaceful float through the shallows.  But, I was basically home at this point. So, I decided to visit the newly stranded root system that has taken up residence about 100 yards off our dock. 

The knotted mass was full of barnacles and many underwater branches that made it almost too scary to hang around for long.  Plus I knew the tide was almost about to leave me without any water to float back on. So, land ho. 

But the day's adventures were not over!  As a family we went for a bike ride on MacDill AFB.  And then I took a nine million degree bath. In an overheated daze and trying to cool off, I put on my robe, lay on the bed and fell asleep. 

(Insert Ron Popeil's voice...) But that's not all! At 2 am I woke up, looked at Shawn - who was still awake and poking around on his iPad - and announced, "Let's go to St. Augustine and see Mandy!"  

Shawn's response, "OK.  We'll take our bikes and go in the morning."

:)

The Mason

The day after Stumpy's mauling I decided to work in the front yard so that I could continue to scold and intimidate that naughty long tailed lizard. 

Since we've been having a few "sink holes" in our pavers AND I think that I am fully credentialed by proxy because my paternal grandfather was almost a "mason"...it's time to dig in!  Literally!  

In this picture you can see two low spots:  one is almost dead center with a dark outline around the far side of the facing brick, the other is nearer to the camera lens by about ten bricks and also has a dark outline. 

During Spring Break, I removed, reseated, and replaced the pavers we have around the steps and our plants.  Under our stairs we think that we may have an armadillo who has been digging up the earth and causing our final step to become uneven. 

At that time, I crawled under the stairs and assessed the situation. The boards of our porch were replaced with composite wood material around eight years ago. Our carpenter suggested that we have the stringers repaired and/or replaced. I think that I told him that I wanted it done right and to do whatever was necessary to correct any errors the original builder had made. I guess not. 

(The previous owners of our house HATED the builders and although they loved the house, they chose to move out after only two years due to their disdain.  And they moved to a house only two streets away.)

Anyway, the original builder was a kook and the composite wood man was a kook too. Once I got under the stairs and swallowed my fear of spiders, snakes, and rabid armadillo...I dug out the bricks, soil, and debris until I got down to the footer/header. (What's the difference anyway?)  The header was set about eight or more inches under the bricks and the stringers were not attached to it. And furthermore, the header wasn't secured to the ground in any way.  (I would have thought it might have been cemented in and at least nailed together.)

So, I removed all of the bricks and laid five 40 lbs bags of ready mix cement. Then, I placed sand over that and set the pavers back, leveling it all and forcing fine grain sand between the chinks.

Of course, this was contagious!  After a day or so of admiring my excellence, I decided to move on to tidy up the "planters".   The plants needed weeding, pruning, and the bricks were sinking/raising because of the plants' roots. So, I fixed all of that. I widened the squares where the palms were growing and then I used old newspaper and magazines as a weed block before laying about eight bags of rubber mulch over it. Ta da!  

Four months later...still lookin' good!  (See below)

So, like I said, "I'm totally credentialed, licensed, bonded, and insured. Trust me. I totally know what I'm doing.  This is like... easy."

Moving on to this job...

Using my handy dandy finger tips, I tried to pry up one of the bricks. Nope. Ok. Next. 

I used my handy dandy rainbow/tie dyed trowel as a lever. Nope. Not even a slight budge, but the tip of my shovel was bent about 90 degrees in the wrong direction. 

So, I dug deeper into my stash of tools until I came upon a set of Chicago Cutlery kitchen shears. They unlock and can be used as a flat head screwdriver, a can opener, and the like. Handy!  But not sturdy enough. I snapped off the tip of each blade and bent the can opener . 

Eventually, I got out a proper shovel, stabbed it into the weak spot between the higher and lower bricks, and used that as a fulcrum to remove ONE blasted brick!

One leads to two and two leads to three, and about fifty bricks later, I had removed all of the shoddy work between the sunken spots.  

(Note the excellent traffic cone!  I love me some day glow conage and I need to act like a pro. If an actual paid mason was here, he/she would use a cone, right?!)

I went to Home Depot and purchased much needed supplies:  Step One and Step Two. (I billed this and my travel expenses to the customer.)

Using my fingertips and 43 years of sand castle building skills, I expertly filled, packed, and leveled the sand. Then, I whacked each brick with my hand-me-down (via maternal grandfather this time) rubber mallet. After about a million precisely hammered strokes, the sink holes were "fixed". 

Break time!  Broken can opener?  No problem. Simply place the edge of the cap against the lid of the garbage can and hit it with your palm. Ta da!  Damn, I'm good. 

After spreading fine sand around and sweeping it all in, I triumphantly threw my mallet into the air and addressed my fans...Shawn and my neighbor - who accidently happened to drive by at just the right time. Ah!  I'm a woman. Here me roar. I can bring home the bacon...fry it up in a pan. 

Then, I whipped up a darling little brown necklace and hosted a sleepover for my daughter. 

I'm Mrs. Fix-it. And it's just that simple.

Stumpy!

Most of the mornings during the summer time I pull weeds or putz around the house. During my yard work sessions in the front yard I always look for my boy, Stumpy, and tell him how handsome he is and about how much longer his tail looks today versus yesterday. 

Stumpy is one of the great loves of my life. A few years ago I noticed this lizard (who was missing part of his tail) hanging around the stairs of our front porch. His tail was lopped off about a half inch from his hind legs and so that made him easily recognizable. Several weeks of seeing this lizard went by. I'd come home from work in the afternoons and he'd be there...perched on the steps, sunning himself on the porch railing, or camouflaged in a plant but sitting on the rim. Eventually, I mentioned this strange daily occurrence to Shawn. Thinking he wouldn't believe me, I was shocked that he had seen this very same lizard too!

Hummm....could it be true?  Below is a picture of Stumpy from the time he had been "around" for about a six months or more. I remember taking this picture after I had been sick. I came out of the house for the first time in a long time and soaked up some sun sitting on our porch steps. I was happy to be airing myself out and even more happy to see my sweet prince, Stumpy!  

So, fast forward about another TWO summers (aka TWO YEARS!) to this summer. 

Stumpy is my lil guy!  I wove him and tawlk baby tawlk to him...and he comes wunning up to me to give me some woving!  

I look lovingly into his deep brown eyes and he rotates them around, as lizards do. But when our eyes lock on to one another, I can feel his heart speaking to mine.  He is one of my great loves!  Truly!

At one point a year or so ago, Nicholas found a partially skeletonized stumpy tailed lizard as the main course for an army of hungry ants. We all ran out of the house, examined the remaining flesh, and said our good byes to our dear Stumpy. How sad that Stumpy's fragile little body would be ripped apart bit by bit in front of our very eyes!  Circle of life... :(

Ah, but...that was NOT "our" beloved Stumpy afterall. He turned up a few days later and everything was back to the way it was before. The survival of the fittest!  

Stumpy, 

     Not only are you handsome and sweet and loyal and...and...  But, you, my most precious wittle boy, you are stwong too!  I'm so pwoud of you!  Long live Stumpy! 

                                XOXO 

Stumpy has other friends who he hangs with. Some are a little "green" and envious of our close knit relationship, like the lizard below.  (This lizard has a green mate so I know he's not really pining away for me but it makes for a better story.)

But then our happy little woodland utopia was heinously fractured by a mean terrible long tailed bully!  I was gaily skipping through the forest...when I came upon the vicious crime!  Stumpy was being eaten alive!  The "bad lizard" had Stumpy's head inside of its giant jaws!  

I scolded that bad lizard and wagged my finger at him, "Shame on you, you bad...BAD lizard!  No!  No!  Shoo!  Get out of here, you horrid thing!  Bad!  Just you wait until I tell Daddy!"

Then I ran to my precious baby boy.  "Oh, my dear Stumpy!  Your eye is all swollen and red.  Oh...no..."  Stumpy raised his head and postured boldly. He knew that together...hand in hand...he and I could take on that bad bad lizard."  I encouraged Stumpy to go into the bushes by the ligustrum tree and mend himself while I alerted the troops.

Armed with a green plastic sand shovel, Shawn, our brave hero whacked that naughty lizard!  Swooning, I smiled at my human husband...

Stumpy's head and eye were bloodied. 

My brave boy raising his ridge along his back, showing that naughty lizard who is the real boss 'round these here parts. 

Fortunately, the bully only tried to eat half of Stumpy's head.

Stumpy did get rather pale, but he did mend himself. This ti plant and the bird bath are his rehab center.  Although he needs to be reminded that hanging upside down is not part of the "R.I.C.E." treatment, he seems to be making good progress in his recovery. 

Stumpy likes when I tell him how handsome he is.  I sit on the sidewalk and whisper sweet nothings and (for now) we live happily ever after. 

But I'm still keeping my eye out for that naughty lizard!

Bike Ride in Flatwoods Park

So, as a family we are now doing some bike riding and we decided to go to a wilderness loop near USF called The Flatwoods Trail. Shawn loaded up the gear, we donned our "bike riding costumes", and we were off!

Once we got to the park we went into the office where they had a fabulous aerial photo. I studied it. (I love looking at satellite/Google Earth images!)

I shared with the rangers on duty that Nicholas had just learned how to ride a bike with gears and that he was really excited to try out his newly acquired skill on an off-road adventure. They suggested that we take the "1800 Trail" since it was just a small wooded bit that hooked back up to the main road. I took a copy of the map and joined the rest of Team Wolf in the parking lot. 

The paved main road is a seven mile loop with three water stations along the route. (The start of the 1800 Trail was about 100 yards from the parking lot...just off the map.)

I hoped that neither number would be necessary!

To get ourselves warmed up and to pass the time while we waited for one thing or another...the parking lot was quite handy!

Purple camo and bright lime skort.  Check. 

I usually ride in the rear of the group. I figure that this is a good spot for me. Shawn is in the front of the pack, then Summer, then Nicholas, and then me. I ride at my own pace and use my cat herding skills to keep us all together and somewhat safe. 

And we were off into the woods!  Down shift to a lower gear everybody. Slow n steady wins the race. 

The 1800 Trail was a total disaster!  Bugs galore in huge swampy swarms...mosquitos, horseflies, noseeums so big that you could easily see 'em...  And sand pits. And tannic standing water covering roots and deep ruts.  There was no gear low enough to shift into to be able to get through certain sections.  My bike has 24 speeds and I still just fell over from lack of forward momentum to help me keep my balance. Of course, as soon as I put my foot down the muck went about half way up my shin. Summer was crying, "This is the WORST day EVER!"  

And then I had to pass the family because they were all walking their bikes and slogging through the slough, swatting bugs, and making shrill noises like devils bathing in holy water. Suddenly one blood curdling wail rose above the rest!  A man eating goliath grasshopper darted from a his hideout and attacked Summer!  Her guttural howl was almost ...music to my ears. I slowed down as I chuckled to myself, wishing I wasn't in the lead because I couldn't actually see the flailing limbs that accompanied the vocal freak out. My poor little sissified city girl, we really need to get her out more often. 

Summer's leg on the left, mine is on the right. 

Water stop number one. 

Awww... People who understand my "righteousness"!

To the right...

In case you accidentally chose to turn left, you have a gentle reminder not to. 

Watering up along the path. 

Shawn's selfie with an unknowing Summer cameo. At this point in the ride, she was now ticked about:  the sun, the heat, the bugs, her seat, her hands, the length of the loop, that we were trying to tease her, that she was even related to any of us...

Cute little wildflower growing through the railroad ties at one of the water stations. 

Selfie to prove that we survived!

Second Day San Francisco

On the morning of the second day of being in San Francisco I didn't take a walk.  I went down to the hotel lobby and discovered that the little coffee shop was actually a Starbucks.  So, I ordered my standard, "large coffee".  On the counter was a copy of the local newspaper.  Needless to say, the cover story was the plane crash.  It was so surreal to be in San Francisco, to be on that runway yesterday, to comment on how the approach to the runway was over water and so short...

Coffee in hand, I scanned the travel brochures in the rack, considered all we had access to do from this point and made the final decision to go to Muir Woods.  I thought that the kids would get a kick out of seeing the mammoth red wood trees and I knew the grown ups were game.  So, I called the hotel's concierge and he helped to make the arrangements for the 11:00 tour.

After a harrowing bus ride (the driver must have forgotten that he was driving a giant motor coach and not a Miata), we arrived and began our walk through the giants.  Each kid posed for the perfunctory tree hugging photo.

Nicholas, the tree hugger.

Summer's giving the tree some lovin'.

How cute is this? 

A candid picture of Shawn...also very cute!

Summer has really taken to enjoying her solitude and I love "catching" her when she's not looking.

Kilroy was here, but... 

After our walk in the woods, we chose to get off the bus in Sausalito, wander around, have some lunch, and do a little shopping.  Sausalito is a town that looks and feels like being in another country.  There are tiny restaurants with sidewalk seating, funky shops, and loads of people walking and biking.  Along the seawall there were street performers and artists peddling their wares. 

Every one's favorite was the rock balancing guy.  He squatted among the seawall rip wrap, proudly displaying his art.  The picture I took of his work was useless.  It looked like rocks.  To get a good picture, you'd have to be quite low and close to get the proper perspective.  I Googled "rock balancing Sausalito" and came across:http://billdan.blogspot.com/ which is his blog.  This picture from the same site, really shows him and his amazing work!

 

                                                                                Selfie

Summer and Nicholas actually sitting next to each other and conversing!

This guy and his dog entertained us while we waited for the ferry that was to take us back across the San Francisco Bay.

This ferry line also services all of the Golden Gate Bridge bike riders who only wanted to cross the bridge one way.  The entire interior of the ship was filled with hundreds of rented bikes and their adventurous riders.

Once we were back on the San Francisco side of the bay, we made a quick pit stop in the hotel and then proceeded to get in line for the cable car.  The wait was probably about 45 minutes and we could have walked to China Town faster, but riding a cable car, hanging from the railing is a "San Francisco treat"!  We watched the workers manually operate the turntable, listened to a street performer play guitar, and used our iPhones to learn new factoids about the cable car system and history.

On one side of the gripman, Shawn stood and my dad and Nicholas sat.  Nicholas REALLY wanted to stand, but no.

On the opposite side, my mom sat and Summer and I stood.  Summer was so excited to be able to stand.  Grandma had a white knuckled grip on Summer, needless to say.

(Note my toothy grin.  If I mashed my teeth together, I figured you couldn't see the chipped section of my front tooth.)

 



 

We got off the cable car a few streets away from the main drag of China Town.  While we were walking we passed a school's play yard.  Luckily, in Florida we usually only have to write notices in English and Spanish.  I can't even imagine having to do that for all written communication.

We found a restaurant for dinner.  Sadly, they could have benefited from my proofreading skills. The "savteed terder" was delicious!

And the jellyfish was also surprisingly very good!

But the duck tongue...not so much.  Who knew ducks have a bone in their tongue?  Crunchy!  Blech.  Even after I figured out how to strip the meat off the bone, it still wasn't worth the effort.

What a great ending to an adventure filled day!